


All The Times In The World

by NowWeOwnTheNight



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 02:53:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1728443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NowWeOwnTheNight/pseuds/NowWeOwnTheNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[One Shot] The Eleventh Doctor discovers a device invented by a former self- the BackInTimeinator. It draws a future version into the past. The Doctor falls in love with himself, because he's an egotistical bastard, and also who else left could live as long as him; and have you seen that ass? Mainly crack, and lots of Donna.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The Times In The World

1:

"Muuuuuuum…"

"Whaaaat?! It's Chris'mas dinner, Rose!" Her mother whined in that overly annoying tone of hers. The Doctor sighed and shared a glance with Mickey Smith, who was seated in the armchair across the tiny lounge room. One look was all it took for them to smile and start chuckling.

Jointed thoughts of slipping rohypnol into Jackie Tyler's umpteenth drink is a sign of insanity in any ordinary circumstance. Christmas dinners with the Tyler family was obviously not one of them.

"Mum…" Rose tried again from the hall, "There's a strange man at the door." Mickey bit down on his hand to tamp down his urge to laugh out loud, because the Doctor had stood up and was skipping around the low coffee table without a sound, twirling his hair like Rose often did.

"What's 'e wearing? Is 'e the pizza man?" The Doctor mouthed along to Jackie's whinnying tone, flailing his arms and rolling about on the floor. Mickey gave them away, cackling, catching the attention of Rose and Jackie. At the sight of both Tyler's glaring at the Doctor- who was still rolling about on the shag rug –it turned slightly maniacal. Rose sighed and turned to her mother, ignoring the nine hundred year old Timelord with the mindset of a ten yearold.

"He's in a bowtie. And a fez. And he is disgustingly dirty." She referred to the man outside exasperatedly. Having had one too many drinks, Jackie's overprotective motherly tendencies were nonexistent.

"Oh, see what 'e wants, go on." She said with all the calmness of a saint and patted her daughter on the arm, but as soon as Rose left the room, she was at the Doctor furiously. "Hey! Get up, Time Man, you're on washin' up!" With Mickey dimmed down to giggling behind his fist, fearing the wrath of Jackie Tyler might be turned on him next, the Doctor stood and trudged into the kitchen without a word- all initial shock at the reprimand replaced with smugness. He returned moments later, clapping his hands together, proudly pronouncing the job done.

"Wha?!"

"Setting 155. Cleans off porcelain in a jiff." She snatched the sonic screwdriver from him, examined it, and before he could take it back, she pressed the button and aimed it at an unwashed coffee cup. Stains gave way to the blitzing pearl white. Her smile promised nothing good to come of her discovery.

"You are not leaving this house, ever."

"No, nononono-"

"I'm gonna get you a little maids outfit and…" Jackie went on listing all manner of unspeakably domestic things for the Time Lord to do for her, much to the Doctors horrification and Mickey's amusement.

Meanwhile, Rose peeped through the eyeglass at the front door. The man there had swept his hair to the left, cleansed his face enough to be presentable.

"Who's there?"

"John Smith…" He said loud enough to travel through the thick wooden door. Rose instantly started unlocking the door- John Smith, she'd heard that… it may have been a coincidence, but when the Doctor was around things rarely bore innocence and foreshadowing. "I have something to return t- uhff!" He was interrupted by Rose, who had he door open and this strange man in the flat, and pinned up against the entry-way wall. All chatter in the flat was paused.

"Sweetheart? What's going on?"

"Who are you, really?!" She would have shoved her elbow into the man's neck if the Doctor hadn't intervened.

"Rose…" The Doctor came and pulled her gently away from the wide-eyed man. She turned to him, trying to meet his eyes; but they were busy pinning the sooty man to the wall with an intensity she had never seen.

"He said his name was John. John Smith."

"Is he related to Sarah-" Rose thwacked Mickey over the head with a Christmas cracker and led him back into the living room. The Doctor continued to stare off with the younger man, gaze giving out his scrutiny, his wonder. The clock chimed twelve, as did Big Ben from across the city, and the man in the bowtie chuckled a little.

"You are a Time Lord."

"That I am." It was pronounced with pride, as all living Time Lords should; but there was something off in the way he said it. He followed it with "This must be the first time for you, huh?", and the now confirmed Time Lord stalked towards the Doctor; defying personal space, putting a hand out to shake. Neither broke their staring contest. The stranger acquired one raised eyebrow in dare for the Doctor to accept.

At the first contact, a shivering thrill ran up his spine. He felt as if sparks were shooting from each and every cell that touched. The unnamed Time Lord leant closer and closer, until the Doctor had breaths fanning across his lips and face. Resisting the tempting urge to lick his lips, he squeaked out a "Who are you?", much to his embarrassment. And, to further still his blush and increasing hearts rate, the mystery man whispered with a dark, taunting voice:

"I love it when you're so nervous and unsure. Did you know that when you regenerate, you regain your virginity?" He took a step again, which pressed the Doctor against a key table, and gradually brought the linked hands around to the small of the Doctors back; and just as tantalizingly slow, did so with the other. The Time Lord had the taller man trapped, his brown eyes beginning to flash dark with quashed down arousal at the proximity alone, the only point at which they were touching was the hands and lower back; and as the Doctor's chest rose and fell rapidly, with deep, heavy breaths, it pressed their torsos against each other. There the Doctor could feel a key-shaped object beneath the shirt of the other Time lord. A distinct shape. A TARDIS key… that mimicked his own. An exact replica.

"Who. Are. You." He got out between labored inhales, body starting up a tremble of mixed causes.

"John Smith." The Doctor only reverted to his glaring, unable to understand who this man was and why he had stolen his false identity.

"First of what?"

"Many!" The darker haired man laughed with mischievously lit eyes, and for a second the Doctor swore he saw himself glowing in them rather than a shocking reflection. Then he was taking his pace back, no longer arresting the Doctor- but he remained rested on the key table.  
No one could quiet comprehend what exactly had just transpired, nor did they think they ever would. Rose was slack jawed with disbelief, Jackie was gulping down more wine, and Mickey still as a statue. The odd man offered each person a grin, none of which were returned, and put a hand on the Doctor's shoulder. He jolted slightly at the electrical touch, biting back a groan as his thumb slid against the skin of his neck and dipped down to brush on his collarbone. "I'll… let you get on with your dinner." And, with a seemingly uncalled for, stern, withering glare at Rose- leaving her confused to no end -he flourishingly walked out the door before anyone could do anything. Mickey was about to ask yet another stupid question, when the fez-topped head popped back around the door. "Until next time, Doctor."

________________________________________

2:  
Next time arrived sooner than the young Doctor prophesized- not that he had it on his mind. Constantly.  
They swam in the pool, made out in the hot tub, played in the snow, stared up at the projection of their home planet's sky on the oval. They had a date eating a traditional Gallifreyan meal over the console.

Their meeting for a first time didn't last as long as desired; but the older Doctor had a date- with one Amelia Pond and her suitcase.

________________________________________

3:  
The cloister bell rang, once, and the Doctor was on his feet.

He's here, he's here he's here he's here!

He paced around and around, checking all corners as he went- for the brown haired beauty that would soon follow.

Was it right to call himself a beauty? No… not vain at all. Not naturally correct, probably, as he was literally fucking himself- and that was just unnatural in all sense of the word, but that was beside the point.

Anyway, he was rather dashing, if he did say so himself.

"Honey, I'm home!" A disembodied voice, familiar enough the he could recognize it without the handsome body, the pale neck it resonated from. He's here!

"Where are you?!"

"Bedroom!"

"You couldn't have landed here?!"

"Ugh! Legwork! Too many stairs! Now get your pretty little ass down here, I brought chocolate syrup and I wanna lick it off your-"

"Doctor, is that him… again?" The Doctor froze, halfway down the first flight of stairs.

Donna. He'd forgotten about Donna. How could he forget about Donna? It was… well. It was Donna. Mrs. Sass herself. The woman who thinks she can change the universe by shouting at it.

She was at the railing, tapping her foot, totally and utterly unamused by the abandonment. Sure, the woman never understood a word he said when he jabbered on about where they were off too next, but the wall to bounce words off and have objections 'io'ed at him held equal or greater sentiment to Rose's love. She made good company.

He bounded back up, three steps at a time, until he could hang from the rail where she was standing.

As unapologetic as he could muster, he pleaded without words; she turned her head. The TARDIS was otherwise empty, and knowing those damned timey wimey lordies… it would be an obnoxiously loud affair. Her eyes drifted back to the Doctor. He was still there. Still Pouting.  
She cracked.

At the moment a sigh left her lips, he let out an overjoyed 'YEA!' and ran off like a five year old who had just been let out in a jungle gym.  
Maybe that was a dirty metaphor. Maybe it was for the best, too. He had to get his energizer bunny batteries run down every now and then- better off on himself than out in a world and time that could potentially expire as a result.

"I'll be back in an hour." He shouted from somewhere in the depths of the TARDIS, and Donna groaned. It was one of those days.  
The Doctor's older self was a joy to be around, granted, but the Doctor was always there to steal himself away. God above, it was hard to explain the dynamics of the relationship when the partners in question were the same person. It must get awkward in bed, moaning you own name… unless they were into roleplaying and- oh, she did not need those mental images, thank you very much.

"Don't… Touch anything!" Hah. He says that every time. Doesn't mean she listens. More clattering followed, and a few swears when he tripped down some flights, but otherwise his companion was left alone at the wide panel with all sorts of buttons, levers, wheels and pistons; laid out like a feast or a continent under her rule. And it was dinner time. Or, she was President.

"Oi, and keep it down there, alright?! I don't want you getting into another incident!" She screeched, so that both could hear her. The response came from the older Doctor.

"It's okay, Donna! I didn't bring handcuffs this time!"

"Good! I ain't going through that again… you hearin' me, Space Men?!"

She cracked her fingers, looking across the control board for a place to start. She had two Time Lords, all of space and time and relative whatever's, and a good lesson to teach. Again. Because these two were like puppies that never got negative reinforcement for peeing on the carpet.

"Donna Noble, who can barely change a plug. Donna Noble, temp from Chisoc. Donna Noble, traversing the galaxies in travels to some disaster. Flying a Time Machine, all by herself… where could they end up this time around? Ohhh! What is this? A distress call from Raxacalicofallapatorius? We are on our way!"  
Let's see how they liked this.

________________________________________

It was one of the most dysfunctional, messed up, long distance relationship she had ever known.  
But it was also one of the most devotional.  
They'd travel not only over countess light-years, but literal years and centuries and 'apples' and 'buckets'. Just to see each other.  
… and get their hands on each other, as much as possible, before the TARDIS decided that it had had enough of preventing the universe from exploding and sent the visitor back to his own time stream.  
Donna smiled, internally, to see her Doctor so happy. She truly believed that the Doctor deserved all the happiness in the world; and in the multiple worlds he'd happened upon in his inconceivably long life.

________________________________________

4:  
He only visited once while Martha was accompanying him through time and space- the only time he could catch him: 1969. It was awkward, because Martha was kind of slightly possibly enamored with the young Doctor… but as soon as the older one showed up, shoved his younger self against the panel board, and proceeded to make out furiously for all of three seconds, Martha may or may not have had all sorts of thoughts that rivaled Jack Harkness in their dirtily unimaginable nature. But the Doctor, her Doctor, shoved the other man off and mumbled something about 'not this one'.  
Then, as quickly as he had appeared, he went away.

________________________________________

5:

"Kneel before your move'd prince!"

"Ah, My bowtie-adorned Lord. He has arrived. Always the dramatist."

"Huh? I'm not dramatic. I'm anything but. I am deadly logical, and serious, and… and proper. I am A-Grade level Spock. Unlike you, Mr. Sandshoes."

"So you'd break down crying if someone you love is dying behind a sealed, glass door?"

"I hate you so much. How would you like it if I went up to Rose and gave her a Valentines present saying 'Roses are Red, the TARDIS is Blue, If this is my last chance, Rose Tyler, I-"

"Don't go getting all bitchy with me, love. I know you."

"Ha. Well, that's reassuring. I'd be worried if you didn't know yourself."

"Oh, you shut up."

"Yes, please do."

"Don't play on my words, you cheeky little shit."

"Woah! Where did that come from?"

"Donna."

"… tell her thanks. You swearing is kind of a turn on."

"Try it yourself."

"Oh, yes, please do."

"FUCKING STOP THAT."

"FUCKING MAKE YOU."

________________________________________

6:

The Doctor did go and visit again while Martha was at his side, but he made sure to time it so perfectly that he would never remember it…

::

This was the last thing River expected to see when she slammed through the TARDIS door, her mind focused on one thing and one thing only- alerting her husband about the impending doom of a Judoon invasion on earth, and why in hell the Judoon were attacking a class-M was far beyond her. That combined with a simultaneous flurry the cloister bell bonging to life raised hackles and panic and hell.

Amy and Rory could be heard flipping out even from the depths of the TARDIS, yelling at each other over the tolling.

Stupid parents, she muttered to herself; not unlike a rebellious teenager.

"Doctor! Something is horribly wrong! The cloister bell-" She took in the unkept hair, and the awry bowtie, and the subtle limp in each step- neither leg more dominant over the other. And the look in his eyes that she had seen very few times… "Who was it."

"Who was what?" Yup. Definitely guilty. She had been expecting this for some time. In her heart she knew that she wasn't right for him and his heavy baggage- so desperate for comfort yet craving freedom, burdened with a guilty that no matter what was said, no one could ever truly comfort him with understanding.

"You just had sex. Who with." Rory began humming 'I just had sex!' as he and Amy gave way for River to rage. Their daughter wasn't actually angry, but it would be easier to do with a scowling mask. Plus, she loved to watch him squirm with anxiousness.

"I don't know what you're talking about." The Doctor mumbled. River turned, her hair flaring out dramatically, and glared at her husband. Amy swore the Doctors hair began to singe- and he himself felt an unexplained burning sensation on his shoulder. He looked down to make sure he wasn't actually on fire- only to see a dark hickey in the shape of a circle. Oops. "River…"

"Shut your trap before I feed you to the vashta nerada."

"Please, sweetie, just hear me out, I-"

"Nope."

"I can explai-" And he could've had a great length of promise and poetic speech ready to win her heart back, assure her of his so called 'love'… but that was the moment that a tall, thin, tousle-haired, three-quarters naked man popped up out of nowhere and crowned the Doctor with a red fez.

"You forgot this, baby."

"Thanks, babe… but now's really not a good time…"

Giggling, the younger Doctor tapped his older self on the nose and pointed to a skin mark on his neck- the endearment rendering all fears of his to-be ex-wife forgotten. They laughed, and something was said about trying to bite in circular Gallifreyan, until a reminder was given to them of whose presence they were in. In the form of a flattened palm to a cheekbone.  
A tense second passed in which River furiously tried to stamp out the urge to shoot them both. In their collective four hearts. With a grenade launcher. Or something of equal or greater boom power.

"What? That you're leaving me so you can fuck yourself without feeling guilty!?" She stomped to the console and read the over the display- Amy and Rory instantly stopped their absent bickering like the old married couple they were. Their Doctor was followed down to the level by the younger generate. The poor Doctor had only just realized that there were people on board. And that he was wearing his pants and socks. Only his pants and socks.

"Can't you just be happy for us?!"

"Doctor? Who's this?" Rory's answer was rudely snatched away over more of River's yelling.

"Perfect! Oh, this is just bloody BRILLIANT!" By this point the cloister bell had given up, and an eerie silence filled the TARDIS. "And thanks to you and your little… well... you, I need to circumvent the entire damned TARDIS, so no. I'm. Not. Happy!"

"Wait wait wait… that's you?"

The Doctors said 'Yup!' in unison, and the creepiness of it caused poor Rory to collapse into his waiting wife's arms.

"No. there can't be. Two Doctors. Please let it not be true. Someone hit me…" River huffed past in her efforts to save the universe from paradoxical-related end.

"Oh, it's true alright. He's real." The older Doctor purred, much to Rory's dismay. Amy only looked more intrigued.

"I will kill you, I swear to-"

"That would be suicide, you idiot."

"Well."

"Got us there, didn't I?"

"Got you, you mean."

"No, I… wait, what?"

River had meandered her way all around the console, and hit a single red button that dissolved the young Doctor out of the point of time; his last sight in the future was his to-be-wife-turned-ex giving him the finger. Husband locked eyes with wife. They started talking at the time. River won out, naturally.

"That was simply childish, River!"

"I really want to say spoilers… but I never wrote this in the diary, so the two of you have well and truly screwed up time-."

"It's a journal."

"No, it is a diary."

"Journal."

"DIARY."

"JOURNAL!"

"OH, GO FUCK YOURSELF!"

"FINE! I WILL!"

"GOOD! SEE IF I CARE!" He strode away from his family, the doors to the inner chambers of the TARDIS slammed shut behind him, and River stormed out through the front door.

"Wut." Was all Rory could say, thankfully deafening him to Amy's exclamation of "HOT."

________________________________________

7:  
The Eleventh Doctor jumped with joy, spinning with his arms spread wide. He took in the background of the TARDIS that had belonged to his previous regeneration. It had worked! The TARDIS was allowing him to go back and visit so successively. But when exactly was he? The door opened with a creak like a tinkling shop bell. The accentuating of squeaky sentences seeped into the time machine, transforming into music to the older Doctor's ears.

"I'll remember your face, don't you worry! Oh-ho, you're in for a world of trouble, young man. Stay there! Don't move. Right! Come along, Donna. Let's-" Blue suit and greatcoat soaked through, there he was. Him. From the past. And, if he remembered correctly, those brown eyes were flushed dark with sudden anticipation- seeing the way those skinny jeans clung.

"Is that-"

"Out."

"God DAMNIT! That's TWICE today!" A red headed woman walked back outside, apologizing profusely to whoever the Doctor had been threatening, shutting the door behind her.

"Hi."

"Hello."

"Now, this is my second time, so… just… be gentle."

"It isn't linear for you, is it?"

"Nope. Luck of the draw." The older Doctor made a show of placing a little black book on the floor. The cover read 'Timeline'. It contained which visit was what for both generates, to avoid  
the questioning and awkwardness. And, seeing as a majority occurred during Donna's companionship, it would be of great help. He then whispered something along the lines of 'There's this one time with Jack, holy shit.' in a deep and grumbling voice, letting himself be embraced by the young Doctor.

"Why do I find that hot?"

"You find everything hot, wherever you are concerned."

'You mean you."

"Yes, we mean me. Now shut up and kiss you."

"Me."

"Us."

"Gladly."

________________________________________

8:

"DonnaaaaAAAAAA!"

"Oh thank GOD you're DONE!" At any other time, he would have laughed. However, being stark naked, handcuffed to his own bed with naught but a pillow between his crossed legs for cover ruined the mood for amusement. His hands were held in position at the bedposts on either side of his head by the cuffs, and the distance calculated to ensure that he couldn't do much without dislodging a shoulder joint.

Oh, and the key for his release was sown to the bottom of the pillow. He would paraphrase 'At least it couldn't get any worse' but the past few times he'd said that, the day ended in disaster.

"HeeeEEEEELP!"

"What?!"

"I need your help!

"On my way!"

Donna was trampling the stairway at top speed, meaning that the Doctor had seconds to prepare himself for onslaught of swears and screams sure to burst into his bedroom. 'Just explain. Explain, carefully, give reason. A good reason. The best bloody reasoning…'  
The door smashed open, his companion tumbled through and onto the floor. He settled himself back against the headboard, bracing for impact; she looked up from the floor and covered her mouth with her hand, frozen to the spot.

"Go on, let me have it-"

"Oh. My. GOD!" Donna yelled, and promptly laughed herself half to death. Her shoulders shook, and her knees gave out- tears welled in sheer embarrassment for the man and streamed down her face. It was entertaining to see one of the most powerful beings she had ever come across at a complete loss of what to do, and a complete lack of clothing. It was a whole nother thing to see how far down his humiliated blush went, to hear his indignant snort of 'Yep, go on, laugh it up'.

"Oh, you got you good! Pffff." And the guffawing proceeded for the next half hour, until Donna was calm enough to hold conversation with her Doctor without cackling. "This is too good! Hah, I can breathe, phew…"

"Do you want to know where the key is?" The words, accompanied with a wolfish grin and eyebrow waggle, were clue enough to the whereabouts of the key.

"Oh no." He merely nodded. "No. No way!"

"Please-"

"You can stay there and rot for all I care, because I am NOT going down there!"

"Come on, Donna, be reasonable-"

"I'm being perfectly reasonable. Give me one good reason to let you go."

"Anywhere, all of time and space-"

"Already got that, Space Man." She said with a hint of sing-song, and walked around the bed to sit by the clothe-less Time Lord. And, since there was no way he could stop her, pinched his cheek like a mother would to a cute child. "But nice try." The Doctor couldn't think of what else he could offer, other than sex, which was out of the question as far as the ginger was concerned. Maybe? Worth a shot…

"Well… I am all tied up here. Vulnerable, at a disadvantage… if you reeeeally wanted… you could-"

"Let me stop you right there." Donna cut the head off whatever monstrous plan he was deviating, shuddered, and continued. Here's the deal- next time your little boyfriend turns up, you don't run off and have loud, violent sex."

"Ok, sure, we'll keep it down-"

"No, I mean that you guys don't have-"

"Do you want to have sex with my older-"

"God, shut UP for one second. I don't know much about Time Lords, but you're making me think that they're all sex-driven madmen that flip though time in boxes! I don't want to have sex with anyone in this TARDIS, right?"

"Ok, yes, sorry. Name your terms."

"I just want to sit on the deck with my boys. Talk. Act like normal people for a while."

"Ohh, I don't know…"

"Please? If you don't like it for the first five minutes, I'll let you go lick ice cream off each other or whatever."

"Chocolate sauce, is what is on the list next- HEY!" Donna wrenched the pillow from its strategically places spot and tore the key from the fabric. Without taking her gaze from the Doctor's face, she unlocked both cuffs and started pinching and tickling his arms until he rolled off the mattress. Stepping over his prone body that shook with unstoppable giggles, dropping the key in the doorway, she sashayed up the stairs.

"YOU'RE FREE!" Donna screeched over her shoulder, rounding the first corner of the stairwell so she could shout directly at the Time Lord. "I'M GIVING YOU THIRTY SECONDS. OUT, DRESSED, UPSTAIRS. WE'RE GOING TO THAT NEBULA YOU'VE BEEN GOING ON ABOUT. AND THEN TO VISIT THE OOD."

"Yes SIR!"

"OI! DON'T GIVE ME THAT SHIT, SKINNY."

He scrambled for his clothes, calculating the waypoint from Earth to the Beehive nebula.

 

________________________________________

9:  
The one time that the Doctor was stuck in the TARDIS with the one and only Captain Jack Harkness, it would be the time that he got one of the timely visits. His elder self appeared to have worked up a whole lot of tension that needed to be dissipated- apperating practically on top of his partner, going straight for the exposed collarbone; a engorges zone that he found on himself back when he had a decorative vegetable pinned to his blazer. He was adventurous, so shoot him.

In any case, Jack was the fastest to act- proposing a threeway for the benefit of the deprived Doctor, no ulterior motives. He swore on the precious, he had said while stroking the panels of the TARDIS. No one could argue. Any awkwardness that could have ever grown keeled over and died over the course of a second- the three pouncing at each other on the way to the bedroom like a group of teenage boys. They didn't exactly make it to the bed by round one, but with the man that would never die and two Time Lords… The combined stamina could have lasted for a month. Anything could have happened behind closed doors.

And if that night had been one of Jack's most dreamt of… well. That was just an added bonus.

________________________________________

10:  
If there was to be a last time, this would be it.

Please.

As the Doctor stopped off to each of his companions, he was glad to see them- don't get the wrong idea. However, he was waiting for someone. Someone he couldn't possibly track down; who he'd have to wait, of all things, and hope for a timely visit.

Moments passed in livid rage and pain at the dimension in general for his so called 'reward'… he could recall yelling "I don't want to go!" in the mix of his oversensitive ears, and every movement he made became searing pain, causing him to shimmer with stronger heat and light.  
Then, with a great roar that he couldn't possibly hold back against the final wave of regenerative power, it was over.

"I'm... CRASHING!" The inventory check was quick and efficient; all engines functioning, all gears grinding, that sort of thing. And still not ginger, damn it all, plus a little bit too much on the chin. But what can you do, huh? Luck of the draw-  
The cloister bell smashed out a single note, and the Doctor whirled around in panic. He had just got here, he had literally just saved the Earth, what could possibly be going on now-oh.

"No." The Doctor who had just materialized on board gaped like a fish out of water, completely dumbstruck.

"Yes. Late, much." It was all he could do but smirk, and offer a small wave across the panel. There he was. But they were identical... An exact mirror- clothes and facial expressions aside. He was approached slowly, unlike so many of those other times, and hurriedly stepped back so that they wouldn't touch. Sure the TARDIS was great at containing paradoxes of a different-aged person doing unspeakable things to one another, namely feeding each other jammie dodgers and playing pinball… and, ok, having lots of rowdy, marvelous sex but… this was a bit too close. Something may explode. And not just in their near vicinity like it had in the past. Or days to come. Depending on which you were.

"Well, it would just be weird… so..."

"Yup." They shifted from foot to foot, gazes averted, too awkward to say more as they hurtled towards the Earth's surface. Oh, right. They were crashing. The older Doctor turned to the panel and checked one thing before whirling around, screaming over the sound of all sorts of alarms and hisses and bangs.

"And you're about to hit thE GROUND OK!" With that, he rolled his eyes at some invisible entity, reached out and pulled his younger self in by the back of the neck for a chaste kiss. Then, he was three strides away and looking up expectantly.

"Bye!" The Doctor disappeared back to whatever adventure he came from, seconds before the TARDIS crashed into one little miss Amelia Pond's yard. Unable to grip the rails through the impact shock, he pin-dropped down through the layers and levels of the time machine, landing in one of the many pools.

As he sank down, shedding the heavy suit blazer, the Doctor thought of all he had ahead of him- a new life with all the new experiences out there to be had. He forgot those thoughts for a second, once he resurfaced, and muttered, "The back of my head is weird…". An odd revelation, granted, but with the prospect of going through all of those meetings again… it wasn't too unwarranted.

::

Halfway up the grappling hook rope, a completely irrelevant and distracting question passed through his head like an exterminator beam - frying all other processes. And he thought long and hard about it, swinging mid-TARDIS, somewhere between the firing range and the croquet lawns, until the only logical conclusion came to him. With a cry of anguish, and no small amount of shock, he released the rope and buried his face in his hands. On his way back down to the swimming pool, he whispered to no one in particular: "Shit. I'm a virgin."

The fall was worth the dramatic splash he got.

Was that the kind of man he was now? A dramatist?

________________________________________

11:

"What's it called?" Rose asked, twirling her hair absently as the Doctor fiddled around in the under-panels of the TARDIS.

"The BackInTimeinator." He growled, not at her but at the annoying setting button- stuck on inactive.

"Well, don't get your ears in a twist." She called teasingly, ignoring his sassy comment about her clothing choices- while he blocked out further degradation of his big nose and bald head. When Rose was finished irritating her Doctor, she tiptoed to the door. "What does that thing do, anyway?" Was the last he heard of her for while. Immediately after she said it, she slipped out of the TARDIS and into the big, bad world they had landed on. The Doctor was well distracted by the BackInTimeinator; and explaining what the machine did.

"I don't know, really. It is connected to me in some way, or an older or younger version. Oh! Did you know that? I don't think I've told you... I regenerate, Rose, rather than dying. Glow gold and explode and then change my face. Hope it doesn't scare you too much, the light and the new me... I'm sure he'll be fine. Or she. Can I become a woman? Never had been... it'd be interesting. Anyway! This thing should turn on in three, two, one-" A loud zap, a single ring of the cloister bell, and the Doctor's head banging on the metal grilled floor of the TARDIS; and then a squeaky exclaim of "-What the hell does this button do-Oh crap... this is so so so EARLY!"

The Ninth Doctor squiggled out and drew himself up face to face to a dark and floppy-haired, bowtie and tweed jacket wearing man. He had skinny jeans and boots on, flattering shapely legs.

"Wanna make out?" The bow-tie-wearing man asked.

"...Yeah!"

And then the BackInTimeinator whirred, evaporated the other man, and lay decidedly dormant for a few regenerations.

Rose returned hours later, and the Doctor greeted her like normal...

Maybe it was for the best that she was kept in the dark. He did try to make out with himself, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> [Written Order: Order for Eleven]  
> 1: 2  
> 2: 3  
> 3: 7  
> 4: 5  
> 5: 9  
> 6: 6  
> 7: 4  
> 8: 8  
> 9: 10  
> 10: 11  
> 11: 1


End file.
